Correct Mr Holmes, or should I say, Daddy?
by KryptKeeper
Summary: A mysterious woman is sitting in Sherlock's favourite chair of 221b Baker Street. Who is she and how did she get into the apartment? More importantly, why is she blowing more holes into the walls? read on to find out!
1. Very good Mr Holmes, almost correct

_'Bang, bang, bang'_. Shots rang out of 221b Baker Street. This was not an unusual occurrence most of the time, as my companion, Sherlock, often got bored and started blowing holes into our wall. Yet today was different, as Sherlock and I stood on the door step of our flat, and the shots were coming from the inside.

Sherlock's quizzical eyes darted around the hall and our door, for any clues of whom might be inside. The shots continued, until I pulled my keys out of my pocket, and the jangle of them momentarily paused the gunfire. I froze, and only the heavy breathing from me could be heard. My friend stood silently and watching.

"Sherlock" I hissed as the gunfire commenced once again. "Who do you think is in there? And how did they get into our flat?"

"Well," replied my companion "the latter is simple" I raised my brows, yet I should not have been shocked, Sherlock knew everything before anyone else knew anything. "They picked the lock. As for who, is another matter. Judging from the slight indentation in the floor boards, I would say a woman, maybe 5'7, 5'8, wearing stilettos with dark hair, as you can see, one of them has been caught on the light here" and he held up a long dark hair, obviously not one of Sherlock's or mine "and judging from the sound of the gun, I would say a Browning hi-power hand gun, rather small and feminine don't you think? Now, just who is this mysterious, tall, dark haired woman" Sherlock asked himself. "Lets find out shall we?" and he turned the door handle of the unlocked door inwards into our apartment.

Our apartment was nothing special, but it was home. From the body parts in the fridge, to the scattered, endless pages on every available surface. I tried cleaning every once in a while, but Sherlock complained he couldn't find anything and everything 'looked funny'. I have no idea what planet that man is living on sometimes.

In the comfy chair, that Sherlock had claimed as his own by the fire, a figure sat crossed legged with a smoking gun in hand. She lifted the gun so it pointed the ceiling and slowly unfolded herself from the chair, like a giant, graceful cat. Dressed in a blood red silk shirt, tucked into a black pencil skirt that fell just above the knee, with at least two inch penitent red stilettos, and a thick waist clenching belt, she stalked towards Sherlock and me, with certain poise about her. With a 'click-clack' of her heels on the floorboards, she came toward us with her curvaceous, yet thin figure and stopped in front of me. She looked me up and down with heavily made up, dark eyes and her full, bright red lips twitched into what I thought might have been a smile.

"John Watson, I presume" and held out a hand to me, with long black nails. "Oops, please forgive me, _Doctor_ John Watson."

She took back her hand and turned to my companion. They were both about the same height, very tall. Or I'm just short. She repeated the gesture to Sherlock, giving him the once over, and returning her grey gaze to his. Her eyes were the colour you would find in the middle of storm and his, the grey you would see right after. She smiled.

"Do you have any idea who I am Mr Holmes?" she asked walking back towards the coffee table, picking up various pieces of paper, studying them, and then picking up another.

"Well, you are obviously well trained to break into my apartment using specialist equipment, so you leave no trace or evidence behind, yet you wait, inconspicuously in our apartment, blowing holes into our wall-"

"I only added to what was there Mr Holmes"

"- and then, you question me as if I should know you. Now, let us see, the ring on your right hand, is very old, and a family heirloom, to a woman I once knew, and she loved that ring very much, engraved into the black stone an A, for family name, so she would only part with it for two reasons, one you pried it from her cold dead fingers, or she gave it to you. Now I believe the latter, seeing your clothing style is similar to hers when I last saw her. But, you look too similar, too similar in fact, to be just friends, and for her to give that ring to you, you have to be someone pretty important, and your locket that you wear around your neck, her mother owned that necklace, and vowed to give it to her daughters when she died, so, if I am correct from my deduction, I would say you were Miss Irene Adler's sister, Marianne Adler?"

"Very good Mr Holmes, almost correct"

"Almost? I thought I was spot on"

I stood next to Holmes and this woman, who had moved closer to us while Sherlock had been deducting. Who the hell were they both talking about? Irene who?

"Not quite. Yes the ring on my finger and the locket I wear are family heirlooms of the Adler's, yet I am not dear old Aunt Marianne"

"Aunt Marianne?"

"Yes, Aunt Marianne, which makes me…"

"Irene's daughter"

"Correct Mr Holmes, or should I say, Daddy?"

Please, tell me what you think before I continue, I would very much like feedback and to continue the story for you :)

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the characters from my own imagination, not the lovely Sherlock Holmes, nor the brave Doctor John Watson... Not even Miss Irene Adler :(

KRYPTKEEPER xx


	2. Oh, and for the record, I'm a size 8

"Daddy?" I exclaimed with disbelief "You mean to tell me, you are his _daughter_?"

"You are a doctor are you not, Watson?" The young lady said "when a man and woman reproduce and have a female offspring, it is generally known as a daughter"

She walked back over to the chair, and settled herself once more, gun back in hand… wait a minute, where had _that_ gone during our discussion? I must keep an eye on it, I thought.

Sherlock throughout all of this had remained silent, shocked or in wonder and awe, I have no idea, but his face remained a pleasant, expressionless mask, revealing none of his emotions.

His phone beeped loudly, causing me to jump slightly. The young lady turned her eyes upon me once more, and with a smirk she looked away. Sherlock pulled out the Pink iPhone, from our third case together, on my blog I had named it 'The Great Game', the one of which J. Moriarty had sent the pink iPhone as a copycat to Sherlock for his game.

Sherlock showed me the phone

**Message Received:**

**Lestrade.**

Another body. Hate to say it but, need advice. L

"I'll be back, then we'll talk." And with a swish of his coat, he exited the flat dramatically. Oh, don't think it was for his 'daughters' benefit. He did everyday.

I dragged the other chair over to where mini Sherlock sat. She had one eye closed and was aligning the gut at the wall for another shot. You could really see now that she was Sherlock's daughter. The same defined, yet feminine cheekbones, with the stormy grey eyes, so calculating and deducting, and the dark hair, hers being more styled and tamed then his, but still somewhat… his. Her pale skin seemed translucent in the light and her graceful movements, like a giant cat, reminded you of Sherlock without a doubt. I had no idea who this Irene Adler was, but I assumed it was the beautiful woman in the picture frame, somewhere on the desk. She too, had dark hair, and dark eyes, which had mixed with Sherlock's to make this dark, somewhat deceitful grey, but something shone through them, what, I don't know. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

She turned her graceful face towards me, just stopped and stared for a few seconds, then said:

"Please stop staring Doctor Watson, I find it quite…"

"Intimidating?" I supplied

"Annoying" she said smirking.

"So… how old are you?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

"Well, no lady likes to be asked her age Doctor Watson, especially before her name, what will be the next question, my size?" she quipped, now back to aligning the gun to the wall.

"Oh my" I gushed "I'm so sorry, I didn't think it's just that- oh, please, what is your name? And accept my sincerest apologises"

She turned once more to stare at me.

"You are a military man are you not?" she asked

"Why yes," I told her "how could you tell"

"Your hair, still styles to military standards, you have a slight, almost unnoticeable limp, and a scar of a blister on the inside of your thumb, suggesting you used a walking stick for some time, your eyes have that ever watching and waiting stance to them, and you have a very slight tan, so I would say, Afghanistan or Iraq. From what I saw of your bedroom, it is much tidier then the rest of the house, meaning that it is your own space and you prefer to keep it clean. From the stories I have heard of my father, he was neither tidy in living space nor… personal hygiene. I can see that the first has not improved somewhat, and god only hopes the latter has."

"All correct" I told her with a smile "exactly what your father deduced of me when we first met, though I must inform you, his personal hygiene has much improved, though, only when we have a case on… he is so easily bored and forgets to wash. Oh, just as a warning, there are body parts in the fridge."

"Yes… I saw" she said. I looked questionably at her "what?" she asked "I got board waiting for you"

At this point I had leaned foreword in my chair and I smiled down to my hands. Before I had time to say anything else, she said:

"My name is Scarlett Morgana Holmes. My mother wished me to take my fathers name when I was born, god knows why, and I am 18, almost 19 years of age. Oh, and for the record, I'm a size 8."

OMG thanks you guys! You don't know how much this means to me!

TogsTwilightFans: thank you! I came up with this character for my Original Writing coursework for English, but I felt it was some what incomplete, so why not continue it on here? And I can't wait to see his reaction either! I'm completely making this up as I go along, though I have a plot in mind ;)

Blank1Han1d (Hana): thank you so much for your comment! It is muchly appreciated! Well as you can see from the chapter his reaction is delayed, but I promise I will try and make it spectacular!

SweetLilNothing: thank you! I'm so glad you like it! This is only my second story, my first one wasn't a great success, but hopefully this one will be! I will be certain to include Lestrade, Donovan and Anderson in this as you can see I mentioned Lestrade in this chapter ^^, and they will be proper characters in this :P

Eleanor B-F: Hey, thank you for the comment! Erm I'm placing Sherlock at about maybe, 38, and lets say he had her about 20, which would make her say 18, 19, depending on the tome of year I hope that's okay, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

KRYPTKEEPER xx


	3. Don't let her out of your sight

Disclaimer! i own only Scarlett, and no of the other characters :'( i 3 Sherlock!

I know, I'm uploading loads, but I'm off ill today and having nothing better to do. i.e. homework , Enjoy, Comment, Review :)

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I sighed and started to unload my pockets of various things, such as phone, keys, wallet, what not and went to place my coat on the hook. I then proceeded to my bedroom to change, but I took a glance at Scarlett before leaving the living room.

I stripped of my shirt and splashed my face in the sink of my bedroom. I sat down on the edge of the bed and just thought for a while. Sherlock had a daughter? I would never have even guessed he had lovers before. I hadn't really thought about it before. I mean we were close but… we were _men. _We didn't talk about this kind of stuff.

I looked at the pictures on my bedside take. One of when I was younger, with my family, all three generations, grandparents, parents and me and Harry, oh, how we had changed, as shown by the one of me and Harry at her birthday party, wearing stupid party hats at that new club in town. I studied the picture. I remembered that night. Harry had brought my girlfriend along and suggested I bring mine too, though seeing as I wasn't dating Sarah at that point, I had asked if I could just bring a friend.

"Oh a _friend_" Harry had said, "sure you can bring your… _friend_" I had told her off for implying Sherlock and I were more then just colleagues, companions and flatmates. I saw in the background of the picture Sherlock leaning against the bar, caught in a moment of time, staring at Harry and me, though he eyes were slightly to the left… where I was standing. Probably nothing, just scanning the room I bet, I though to myself. Sherlock had never expressed anything remotely romantic between us to… though, knowing Sherlock, his hints were never exactly obvious.

My phone beeped. I never knew numbers so I always had to rely that they were in my phone book, so I knew who they were. It was Sherlock.

**Message Received.**

**SH**

Don't let her out of your sight. SH

Nice to hear from you Sherlock. I said as I replaced my phone on my bed stand. I walked out to the living room and she was not where I left her.

"Shit!" I said and started to look around the rest of the flat.

"Ohh bugger, bugger, bugger" I exclaimed as I became frantic.

"Doctor Watson, such a foul mouth on such a nice gentleman" a voice came from behind me. She was propped up against the door. Just staring at me… but not my face. I realised I had forgot to put my shirt back on when I had left my room. The scars of my past stood out shiny and pink against the normalness of my skin. Heat rushed up my neck and my ears began to burn.

"I was just going to get into the shower"

"How nice… I assume you didn't come out here to ask me for an invitation to join, so what do you want?" the heat flared in my cheeks. Should she be so… crude at this age?

"I was just going to ask you to stay in the flat, I would like to talk to you after" I rambled

"I suppose my father, dear ol' daddy, asked that of you" she smiled a red lipped smile

"Not exactly"

"Don't worry Doctor Watson, I may have been here all day, but I'm sure I can find… something to amuse myself with" and she walked back into the living room. "Oh wait, that reminds me Doctor Watson, a lovely young lady called while you were out, Sandra or something-"

"Sarah" I supplied

"yes… anyway, she asked if you were still on for tonight, so I told her you would be somewhat… indisposed tonight, as I thought my arrival my scupper yours and my fathers plans, and she sounded rather angry for some reason when she asked of you would kindly drag yourself away from, quote, someone else's knickers to call her back, unquote" and she smiled once more.

"Shit!" and a whole other string of swearwords exited my mouth as I ran back to my phone with Scarlett laughing in the background.

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Hope you enjoyed it :D

KRYPTKEEPER xx


	4. Dinner for Two?

Thank you all for your comments! this makes me so happy when people like and read my work :') enjoy the next installment :D

DISCLAIMER: i do not own beautiful Sherlock :'( or Watson, but i do claim ownership over Scarett Morgana Holmes, though if you do want to use her, let me know :P

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I sighed and put down the phone after having a long, and exasperated talk with Sarah after answering, no I wasn't having an affair, yes, there was a woman in my flat, no, I was not sleeping with her, yes she was still here, no, I was not going to sleep with her, and explaining that it was a long story of who she was and again, no, I was not and will not be sleeping with her, but yes, I suppose our date for tonight was probably cancelled.

I went into the bathroom and stripped the rest of my clothes and turned on the spray of hot water. It felt amazing to feel the beat of heat against my tired skin. I heard the distant sound of my phone vibrating and signalling I have a text, but for now, that could wait... I had waited a whole day for this shower.

After spending at least 20 minutes in the shower, I stepped out and called to Scarlett. Hum… No reply. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked around the flat. No defiantly not here this time. Ohh Sh-. My phone vibrated, reminding me I had a text, and I ran to it.

**Message Received.  
****SH.  
**Come Quick. Need Help. Hurry! SH

Included in the text was a post code to be tapped into the GPS system on my mobile. I threw on new underwear and a new outfit, leaving my hair to dry and I ran out of the flat and straight into Mrs Hudson.  
"Oh hello dear, is Sherlock trouble? You never run around like that unless he's in trouble."  
"Hello Mrs Hudson, yes he's in trouble… when is he not?" I said impatiently  
"Anything to do with that pretty little thing that came out of your flat not long ago? Why I haven't seen beauty like that in a while, she's a keeper Doctor Watson, though I thought you were seeing that lovely Sarah girl, not that she isn't pretty or anything…"  
"It's complicated Mrs Hudson" I said just to shut her up and I ran at full speed out of the building. I typed in the postcode and up came an address I recognised funnily enough and I ran.

I came to the door of the restaurant; French Cuisine was the dining choice of this particular establishment. Sherlock and I had eaten here a couple of weeks ago when we had discussed the nutritional benefits of frog's legs and snails. I had won the argument for once, but he won the argument that they didn't taste all that bad.

"Ahh, Bonjour Doctor Watson, your table is ready" I bent foreword breathing deeply to catch my breath.  
"My… what… table... what?" I managed to gasp out.  
"Your table Doctor Watson, your lady is waiting" and he swiftly walked towards a table at the back of the restaurant. What the fu-  
"Ah hello Doctor Watson, such a pleasure of you to join me." Scarlett bloody Holmes. She had changed her outfit, to a skin-tight red dress with the neckline cutting across the shoulders in a straight line and knee high black, plat formed stiletto army boots. I know she's my best friend's daughter, and I'm dating someone else, but…WOW!

"Well are you going to offer me my chair?" she asked "what?" she said when I gave her a sceptical look "I told you I would find something to do to keep me amused, and, I had this new dress, plus I was hungry, so, voila." Abandoning my gentlemanly manners, I took my own seat and left her standing. Instead of taking the seat opposite me, she took the one next to me, the closest one possible.  
"How did you text me so it came up with Sherlock's number?" I shot at her.

"Easily, while you were in the shower, I added my number to your phone book, with the same name as my father, so I knew you would come to my aid when I texted you. Okay, you're annoyed; I get it, but please, just pretend"

"And why should I?" I retorted moodily like a child.

"Because my father is not the only Consulting Detective in the world, though he claims he made up the title" she said with an angry undertone.

"Your, what, a detective too?" I asked with disbelief

"Well, sort of, I dabble between the law and criminality, following the footsteps of both my parents." She said nonchalantly and started to look at her menu.

"Wait, what? Both your parents' footsteps? You mean you're…"

"A criminal?" she supplied.

I sat there dumbfounded. What the hell had I gotten into?

"_Ah, brillants, ils ont de poulet avec une sauce au rhum et whisky, mon préféré_"

"You speak French?" I asked

"_Oui_" she replied without looking at me, eyes still on the menu "and German, Russian, Spanish and Italian, with a little bit of Chinese I had to learn when I got picked up by the embassy. Would you like me to order for you?"

"Erm sure…" my phone buzzed in my pocket. 2 new messages, one from Sarah, and one from Sherlock… The real Sherlock this time.

**Message Received (1)  
Sarah  
**Oh, if you're not dating and sleeping with that cheap tart, why are you in a restaurant with her? S.

**Message Received (2)  
****SH.  
**Where are you? And have you seen my brain that was in the fridge? SH

Great. Just great.

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Do what you guys do best and leave a comment :D

KRYPTKEEPER xx


	5. Caught in the Act

Yes i have written more, i am that bored today xD this bit is a little... well, you'll see :P Comment, Review and Enjoy! :D

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I replied to Sherlock with the address of the restaurant and that his brain was in the airing cupboard along with some rat poison to test the different rates of discomposure. If I was a braver man, I would have replied to Sarah, but a braver man, I was not.

"I ordered the chicken for you as well, is that okay?" Scarlett asked as I resumed my frame of mind.

"Did you tell Sarah that we were having dinner together?"

Scarlett leaned in close with her darkly made up, stormy grey eyes, big, innocent and focused on me.

"I only sent a text from your phone when I was in your room, saying that if she wanted to meet you tonight, you would be here"

"You. Did. What?" I exclaimed loudly in frustration. The Cheek! Who did this little girl think she was! People from around the restaurant looked around at our table.

"Please Doctor Watson, please, or you're going to give away my cover. I cannot lose this case"

I took a deep breath and calmed myself.

"Look Doctor Watson-"

"John, please"

"Fine, John, I know we have just met, and I can be a right pain in the butt, and I have annoyed your girlfriend, tricked you and brought you out to dinner, but I will make it up to you, I promise. Its just I didn't just come here to meet my dad, I would have avoided it if possible, but, it turns out I need him… and you."

At that moment our dinner arrived, and we ate in silence, Scarlett pretending for us both, with simple head movements and looking up at the right moment with a nod or two, so that people who were sat behind us would assume we were having convocation. The dinner, though soaked in two types of booze, was delicious. The chicken cooked to perfection, now, how do you say thank you in French again?

"Stop it John, you're distracting me" she said suddenly, I almost jumped.

"I didn't say anything" I protest

"Yes, but you were going to" she said and we sat in silence once more while we finished our dinner. As our plates were taken away, she picked up her glass and too a sip of the fruity red wine which had be sitting on the table before I had arrived. She turned her body towards me. And put her arm on the back of the chair so she could play with the hair behind my ear and also scan the room.

"Sorry to do this to you Johnny boy, but I needed a better view. Ah, gotcha" she said, with only the slight change of tone. " there, two tables back, the one at the side, staring at us so intently, its like he wants to set fire to us with his gaze… not that he needs to, there enough heat between us already" she said with a smile to her suddenly seductive tone. She leaned close to my ear "sorry, he started listening in" heat started to creep up my neck, what the hell was I going to do? Her hand suddenly caressed the side of my face, turning me to face her.

"Why don't we have dessert back at the apartment?" she seductively suggested and suddenly her bright red lips were on mine. Wowzer she could kiss. It should be illegal for people this age to be allowed to kiss like this. I felt her tongue trail across my lower lip as I kissed her back passionately, slipping my tongue slightly inside her mouth and my hand slipped to her waist… I loved kissing Sarah like this… wait a second. And then it hit me. This wasn't Sarah, Scarlett and Sarah didn't even look similar, this was Sherlock's _daughter. This was my best friend's daughter!_

I pulled back suddenly breaking the kiss. And she laughed oh so sexily.

"Your right" she said, "lets get back to the apartment to finish dessert" and she put a couple of bills on the table and I helped her into her black coat, completely struck-dumb. She pulled on her red leather gloves, and took my hand and dragged me out of the restaurant. When we were outside, she pushed me against the wall.

"John, I am so sorry, but he star-"

"Good evening John. Daughter. Have a nice night? Sure you did, seeing as your wearing my daughter's lipstick" said a voice from behind Scarlett. And from out of the shadows, stepped Sherlock, with a look I had never seen before on his face.

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Dun Dun duhhhhhh! OMG Scarlett and John! no way! well, you'll just have to wait til i upload the next bit! Sorry its a bit short but i just had to upload it! please tell me what you think :D

KRYPTKEEPER xx


	6. Is that whats she's calling herself?

Loving the feedback guys :') it makes me so happy :D

**DISCLAIMER! :O i do not own Sherlock, Watson, Mrs Hudson :( but i do own Scarlett and other characters from my imagination. ohh Sherlock, i wish you were mine :'( **

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"Oh hello Daddy'o" said Scarlett turning towards her father "rude of you to interrupt my date"

"D-date?" I gasped "you told me you were on a case!"

"I was being sarcastic you bloody imbecile!" she peered back into the restaurant "Shit! You freaks have made me loose him! Ugh, I'm going to have to go after him tomorrow night, and I had hoped to be gone by then" she walked a little way off and pulled out a black phone. "Hi… it's me… no I don't have him… or the information… I was held up… look, don't blame me… it was these idiots!" she continued the convocation along those lines, with more words like 'dickheads' and 'morons'

I tried to subtly rub the lipstick of my mouth, but with Sherlock staring at me so intently I became rather awkward and started shuffling my feet and trying to move away, but his gaze never left my face.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Wh-what?" I stammered

"Did. You. Enjoy. It?" he spoke with a slow demeanour.

"Well, I mean… I know she's young, but she… she's really not a bad…kisser…" it stuck me at that point, it was not the kiss that Sherlock was interested in. stupid, stupid, STUPID! I mean, what father wants to know how good a kisser their daughter is?

"The _date _John. Did you enjoy your date?" his voice steady and unnerving

"Well, it was…nice I suppose pleasant, nice food…"

"Nicer then when we ate here?"

"What?" I asked

"I mean, how could you John? With my own daughter!"

"I thought she was you!" I defended

"Oh, John, please, do not insult my intelligence with your idle lies! You know as well as I do, I do not look that good in a dress from when we went to _The Phantom of the Opera_ together on that case!" he shouted at me, passers by stopped and stared and Scarlett turned around.

"Sherlock, please, not here" I begged as I felt the anger and tension in the atmosphere build up around us like a cloak choking us.

"WHY NOT HERE, HUM? WHY NOT? I MEAN I HAVE JUST CAUGHT MY BEST FRIEND, MY COMPANION, MY FLATMATE! CANOODLING AND MAKING OUT WITH MY DAUGHTER ON A DATE! WHY NOT HERE?"

"You don't even know her name" I said quietly

"Excuse me?" ask Sherlock bewildered, a very rare occurrence

"You don't even know your daughters name" I shook my head as I spoke

"And what importance is that?" he asked

"Sherlock, you didn't even know of her existence 3 hours ago, you still don't even know her name, please, until you know these details, or anything about her, then get all fatherly on e and shout all you want. But for now, I'm going back to the flat." I stepped around Sherlock, wiping the remaining lipstick from around my mouth, and I walked down the darkening street.

How could he get all self-righteous on me like that? Stupid man. Who does he think he is? I put up with a lot of shit from him. Body parts everywhere, him playing the violin at 3 in the morning, killing my dog for an 'experiment', scaring away all my girlfriends, risking my life for him… but stupid old me, if he asked me to do it tomorrow, I would. I really would.

Pain shot up through my leg. The stupid thing! My old war injury always played up when I was fuming or very cold. I leaned against the mouth of an ally way, waiting for the pain to pass, when I heard footsteps from behind me. I was in no condition to fight, so I said:

"Please, at least wait until I'm in condition to fight back before you jump me"

The footsteps stopped. A voice, deep and gruff spoke from the shadows "honestly mate, I aint 'ere to jump ya, I jus' need ta take yoo to me boss, fer a few words, care ta oblige?"

"fine, but I might need some help" and the burly man helped me put an arm round his shoulder as he helped me limp down the other side of the ally to a sleek black car

"Thanks, I think I can get it from here" I told Mr Burly, as he opened the car door for me.

I slid into the black leather seat. The car was warm, but not hot, on this cold night, just enough to thaw out. It was dark in the car, the only light was the dim glow of the dome light above. Across from me, sat two people. A man, in a suit, around 65, with salt and pepper hair, and an iron coloured moustache, trimmed to perfection and a woman sat next to him. She was around 21, on a guess, but she wore no business suit. She wore skinny jeans with lace up the sides and boots similar to the ones Scarlett had been wearing earlier, with the military style. Her top was black and blended in with the car. She was barley visible. She had what seemed to be two hair cuts, one of very short layers, and the other consisted of just below the shoulder layers. The top layers were a startling bright red, and the under layers black.

"Hello Doctor Watson-"the woman began

"John, please" I corrected her instantly

"John. I was wondering if you could give me some information"

"If you want information about Sherlock, I'm sorry but your not getting it from me, try his brother Mycroft or-"

"For once, could you believe that this is not about your companion?" asked Mr Salt and Pepper Hair

"Well, it normally is so I just assumed-"

"You assumption was wrong."

"I got that" I whispered grumpily

"Please excuse my attorneys bad manners, John, he is not used to… other people, are you Mr Gordon?"

"Well then he's in the wrong profession" I said

"So it would seem" she replied "I'm actually wanting to ask you about my dear Aunt Ethel. She owns the building of which you reside"

"Mrs Hudson?" I questioned

"is that what she's calling herself?" mused the girl "why didn't I think of it before? So clever, so… her" she spoke quietly to herself "oh, how rude of me, my name is Arianna. Arianna Stone. I've been looking for my aunt for quite some time; I haven't seen her in over fifteen years. Thank you, I will be in contact." And she handed me a business card which I shoved into my pocket without looking at it. I hadn't realised the car had been driving at this point, until I stepped out of the car on the doorstep of 221 Baker Street.

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ohh hnow whats going on here then? ahh i'm excited for whats going to happen in my own story!

**Do what you lovely people do best :D Comment, Review and ENJOY!**

**KRYPTKEEPER! xx**


	7. Thats it!

hey, my internets playing up, and i no this is really short, but it sort of links the story :) enjoy x

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I got my keys from my pocket, and clambered up the stairs to 221b, passing 'Mrs Hudson' on the way. I wasn't thinking as I walked up the stairs, I let my feet carry myself, and I thought over the strange events of the past day. How… peculiar. How… bizarre, even for a day when you live with Sherlock Holmes.

The door of 221b opened and I looked up to see Sherlock standing there staring at me.

"That wasn't Mycroft's car was it? It looked similar to his, but there wasn't as much mud on the wheels as you would expect if he was driving from Mycroft manor, and the number plates were all wrong…"

"No, Sherlock, it wasn't your brother. We'll talk about it some other time, but for now, we have more pressing manners" and I indicated to inside the flat to where I assumed Scarlett sat.

"Ah, yes, my dau- Scarlett" he said as he moved aside to let me in

"Hello John" smiled Scarlett as I walked into the room. "I'm sorry to have jumped you like that, I assure you it wasn't planned, he started to walk towards us, and I didn't think it would be appropriate to start fighting in the middle of the restaurant, so I didn't the only thing I could think, I'm sorry" and she genuinely did look sorry.

"It's okay, but please, never do that to me again"

"Deal" and she resumed her seat

"Ah ah ah, not just yet little lady, we have some things to talk about" said Sherlock, taking his role ass father "what is this case you are doing? Wait no, start with an easier question, what do you do? As in, for a living?"

"I accept the jobs which pay the most" and she picked up a 'Science Weekly' magazine.

Sherlock took it from her hands "and what exactly does that mean?"

"Deduct" she said simply and took it back

"I want you to tell me" and he snatched it once more from her hands and threw it out the open window. Sounds of a car suddenly breaking followed.

She sighed and sat up "it means exactly what I said. I take the jobs that offer me the most money. I'm used to a comfortable life style, and when mother kicked me out for a new boyfriend-"

"Irene did what?" he exclaimed standing up

"Do you want to here about what I do or not?" she asked, exasperated

"I'm sorry, do continue" and he sat back down

"where was I, ah yes, mother kicked me out, so I started moving from place to place, doing what I could, sometimes committing a crime, then helping the police to solve it, quite funny really, but anyway, so, recently, I get a phone call, not completely new for me, asking if I could get information, I said, yeah, sure, for a price, obviously. Then a few days later, I get another phone call, with an address I can stay while I get the information, so I end up here. I started looking through your papers, and see you are Holmes. I rang Irene and asked her if she knew where you were staying; she said last she heard was London, so voila here I am."

"And what was this information you needed to get? And who for?"

"Well that's the strange thing isn't it, I traced the phone calls back to mothers home, it was her new man candy, wanting information on you, through another source, whilst staying in your home"

"But that doesn't make sense" I said

"No John it doesn't… to the normal mind" said Sherlock "okay, who is this source you we getting information from?" she opened a rather large purse and pulled out a folder, ones police use on cases.

"Names Marcus Longbe, age 37, known drug dealer for the area, acquaintances, you, apparently"

"Yes, me and Marcus go way back… okay, so now we know why they wanted you to talk to him specifically, but why in general, do you have any idea who your mothers new man candy is?" Sherlock asked Scarlett

"James Isaac Marshall. Quite pretentious don't you think?"

"Not the point. I've never heard of him, so what does he want? Ah but wait…"

"What?" I asked

"Shush, I'm concentrating" and Sherlock began to pace the room "of course, That's it!"

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What is it? i hear you ask, wellll your just going to have to wait to find out :P

Comment, Review, Enjoy :)

Kryptkeeper xx


	8. An 'Upgrade'

HEY GUYS! no, you are not misreading! I am BACK! Shockerrr!

i know i have been away a long time and i am so sorry! :( if i told you all the things that had happened to me since i last updated... well, it would be a story on its own, and lets just say, there are somethings i would like to erase from my life :S

anyway, here is the next chapter and i hope you will all be as avid as before and i hope you enjoy :P

please leave a comment or review, they are so welcome and i have missed them making my day!

KRYPTKEEPER xx

* * *

'Boarding seats 30B to 40D on the flight P1126 to Pairs, France. Please have your boarding passes ready' said an all too smiley woman at the microphone on the little desk you had to pass before you got on the plane. Her blue uniform, perfect make-up and hair was intimidating as we strode toward her. Her gaze locked with mine. She looked quite like Sarah… the Air hostess had deep blue eyes. Not as bright or as full as life as Sarah's… she also had blonde hair like Sarah… but her hair wasn't as vibrant blonde and shiny as Sarah's…

Sarah and I had yet another argument about me, Sherlock and, as I explained, his _daughter, _Scarlett all going away on an impromptu holiday to Paris and… she wasn't invited. There had been a little bit of fuming, screaming and crying down the phone on her end whilst I sat there with both the Holmes' glaring at me. I better buy Sarah a bloody good present I thought…

The Air hostess walked away from her station as we walked up. My mouth dropped open in disbelief! How rude!

"Oh don't be so unintelligent John. Here comes her replacement." Sherlock quipped as a strapping young man walked up to the station with a genuine smile strapped across his face and eyes tuned to watch Scarlett's every movement… her seductively stroking her neck and décolleté. Sherlock's eyes flamed in anger.

Scarlett's eyes merely flitted towards him to show her distaste.

"Are you going to be my- er- our Trolley Boy for this flight… Damien?" she said reading his nametag

"I sure am Miss…?"

"Please, Halle. Halle Fox"

"Pleasure to make your… acquaintance Halle" he said with a smile that maybe wasn't included with the service… and with the heat in his eyes, _shouldn't_ be included with the service. "May I see your boarding passes please?" he asked.

Sherlock and I handed ours straight to 'Damien' but Scarlett was rummaging around in her bag even though she had it in her hand a minute ago…

"Ohh shoot!" exclaimed Scarlett "I can't find my boarding pass! But I had it only a minute ago!" tears springing to her eyes.

"Hey, shhh, shhh, its okay, you've probably just misplaced it, here come over to the side and we'll sort it out… I'll just call my colleague over…"

I cast a glanced over me shoulder and then to Sherlock who had a faint amused look on his face as he stared at Scarlett but sobered pretty quick as Damien came back.

"Can you remember your seat number by any chance? That would be a great help" Damien said to Scarlett.

"Well…" she hiccupped through the tears "funny you should ask that. I actually do remember it… its 34D, because, well…" and she leaned close to Damien's ear to finish the sentence so Sherlock and I couldn't hear… I'm guessing it wasn't about where her set was.

Damien's smile said the rest.

He typed a few things into the computer and looked right at Scarlett.

"You're in luck" said Damien "I can bump you all up to First Class once we find Miss Fox's boarding pass-"

"Oh! I remember where I put it!" Scarlett exclaimed and ran back over to where we were sitting before. From where Sherlock and I were standing, we saw Scarlett do nothing but bend over (I'm sure giving Damien a nice look at her bum from the way he tilted his head) and slip her hand inside her coat and take out her passport and boarding pass and ran back over, her cheeks very red.

"Oh I'm so sorry Damien, I've caused all this trouble and for what? I'd left it in the newspaper… I'm so embarrassed…"

"Really Halle, I wouldn't give it a second thought, it happens all the time, here, I'll escort you to your seats once I've checked you in"

Damien smiled all the while as he checked 'Halle' in. He took her bags and held out his arm which she took and we all walked to the plane.

"Halle?" I said to Sherlock

"Fake name on her passport – she's probably wanted by the police in over 10 countries… she probably has hundreds of them" he replied in whispered tones. I looked at the Trolley boy and the young lady ahead of us, and shook my head smiling to myself.

"I know what you're thinking John" Sherlock said "but you don't know her mother" and we stepped onto the plane.

First class. Holy moley.

"Champagne Sir?" asked an impeccably dressed air hostess.

"More? Yes yes and yes" I replied. Hey, it's free and I don't get to drink a lot, I might as well enjoy Scarlett's achievement.

"I told you" she said as we sat down "I enjoy the finer things in life" she smiled as Damien came over.

"How's First Class Miss Fox?" he asked

"Halle, I told you" she replied

"My apologise" he said and re-asked the question using her 'first name'.

"It's… indescribable!" she exclaimed "and the service is most… delectable" a flirtatious smile crossed her face as she stared deeply into his eyes.

"Would you like a tour Halle?" Damien asked…

That all happened about an hour ago and Scarlett hasn't returned. Sherlock looked furious and has been feigning sleep ever since, ready to pounce on her the moment she comes back no doubt. I did have a look around about half an hour ago, but couldn't seem to find her, though I did notice the toilet had been engaged for a long time…

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DISCLAIMER: i own damien's fineee little touche ;) and Miss Scarlett... or 'Halle Fox' :P But Holmes-y and the Delightful Dr Watson belongs all to Sir Arther... share? :) xx


	9. C'est la Vie

Hell Dearies :P

ahh its great to be back writing :) love it all and i love it when i get a new follower, favourite or comment - so keep doing it! :)

Unfortunatly, due to shakes i have in my hand that cannot be explained by medical science (-.- what a bitch) todays chapter is short because i keep pressing wrong keys! but it is no less dramatic :)

i will post asap when the shake stops :)

love love ~ KRYPTKEEPER ~ xx

* * *

The plane landed and Scarlett hadn't returned but she was waiting by the luggage conveyor belt with our luggage.

"Have a nice flight boys?" asked Scarlett as we approached

"Fine-"I started but Sherlock cut in

"Probably not as enjoyable as yours, _daughter_. What did you think you were doing? You could compromise our position!"

"Oh _hardly_" scoffed Scarlett "he was just showing me the, ah… equipment" she smiled "nothing more and hardly any talking. More the show then the tell" she winked at me.

Sherlock looked her over with his deducting eyes "refresh your lipstick, brush your hair and pull up your tights properly. Try and look at least a little respectful and presentable for your mother." Sherlock said as he began to walk away

"Oh come on Papa bear, you know mother, its not like her to care, I mean, she knows what happens, what goes on in a young woman's life…" Scarlett started

"Yes, I do know what your mother is like. Probably better then anyone"

"Really? How long has it been since you last saw her then? Humm? Before I was born at least, she's changed _Father. _Changed a lot since she last saw you!" Scarlett's voice rose as did the colour in her cheeks

"But your mother always had class. And standards. Not joining the 'Mile High club' like some uncontrollable sexual deviant!"

"Class? Standards? Ha! My mother is a lot of things and has a lot of qualities, but none of these hold if she even touched you…"

"Okay, that's it! I have had enough! You cut it out young lady right now or your father and I get right back on this plane and leave. You are intolerable, snide, manipulative, crude and disrespectful. How dare you behave like this! You haven't known your father 3 days and he is helping you beyond the realms of which he should and you are toying with the emotions of too many people and ruining the relationships with the two most important people in my life. My best friend and the woman I may love. And who is ruining this? Not a war, nor by the man who almost killed me months ago, not by arch enemies or by terrorists. The person who could potentially ruin everything is a stupid child and I will not have that!" I finished my speech shouting loudly and breathing hard. People had stopped moving and were staring. Sherlock's disbelieving eyes stared at me with a slight open mouth at my outburst. I had control of my anger, I had to, joining the armed forces, but with my trust issues and psychosomatic limp cured, my anger had been boiling up and I had no way of relieving it, until now.

"Oh, so the pathetic side-kick had a voice" she said "the kitten roars does he? Well Doctor Watson, I never asked for this dismal mans help and I never would.  
Father. Can't say its been a pleasure so I wont. But I will say this. Never threaten nor offend someone not fully committed to your party. You never know what might happen. What they might say. And to whom." Scarlett's eyes brimmed with tears before she turned on her heel and left, leaving our bags.

"John… I knew you were having trouble controlling your anger recently but I have never seen you like this. I mean, your diary told me how you had been dealing with everything else but I am shocked I must say." i was too busy trying to control my breathing to notice he had yet again been reading my diary.

"I'm sorry, I should never have said that, you should go after her, I'll catch up and apologise once I've cooled down…"

"No John, you said what was needed to be said. And we will have to face the consequences. What is it the French say? 'C'est la vie?'"

"Yeah… C'est la vie"

* * *

Bien, non? excitant, non?

hehe just a little something to keep you coming back for more :P

DISCLAIMER: Conan Doyle still owns dear Sherlock and Watson, the BBC owns the TV series (based on Sir Arther Conan Doyles work) 'Sherlock' yet i own Scarlett, the bad little girly :P

KryptKeeper x


	10. Sainte Merde!

Hello my Pretties :) you'll be pleased to know (actually, you probably dont care :P) that my shaking hand has stopped, so you have a little longer chapter today as a thank you for being understanding :P

There is alot of French in this Chapter... please be aware that i actually speak German as a second language (thank you for forcing me school *strained smile*) and not french, and this is all done using a translator, so i apologise if this is wrong and if you are wonderful at french and it somehow offends you, i again, apologise :L

Anyway, i have put the translations in brackets after each forign sentance :) Enjoy :)

KryptKeeper x~x~x

* * *

"Bonjour Monsieur, comment s'est passé ton vol?" (Hello Sir, How was your flight?) Asked the French driver Sherlock had arranged at the taxi port.

"Easy for a get-away" he said as I looked at him blankly when I asked why we were hiring a car and a driver. The look Sherlock had given _me_ when I suggested we take the bus, which was _a lot _cheaper. Working at the surgery part-time didn't exactly rake the money in, neither did blog-writing, or helping the police, but Sherlock never seem strapped for cash, I mean, just look at Mycroft! But Sherlock had an odd way about things like that… he didn't need a flat mate, but still wanted one, always had some money, but never brought anything, food or otherwise… that man really did confuse me.

"Il a été ... intéressant" (it was… interesting) replied Sherlock with a surprisingly accurate accent .

"Eh bien j'espère que le reste de votre séjour est bon. Où puis-je vous prendre Monsieur?" (Well I hope the rest of your stay is good. where may I take you Sir?)

"Humm... John?" Sherlock turned to me. I spoke no French what-so-ever, only the stuff you learnt in school, you know 'où est la piscine?' (Where is the swimming pool) and what not. But thanks to Harry, I also knew a few swearwords.

"What?" I replied to him (because I obviously knew what the driver was saying from my blank expression.)

"Where shall we go? To the hotel or to Miss Adler's residence?" Sherlock asked

I turned to look out the window, with the lights of the Parisian city flashing by I sighed. How I longed to be away from here.

I thought back to one certain weekend. There had been no murders, Sarah was away and Mrs Hudson was visiting an old friend, so Sherlock and I had the building to ourselves. How I begged Sherlock that we could have a normal weekend doing something... _normal_. After many-a arguments, we ended up having a Harry Potter movie marathon and me explaining to the great Mr Holmes, its all fictional, the wands didn't work, it was all special effects and Daniel Radcliff had costume make-up on to give him the scar and it was not coincidence that J.K Rowling wrote a book about a boy with a scar and the casting manager happened to find a young boy with a scar, and that no, he was thinking about Star Wars when he thought Harry was actually Voldemort's son… he hadn't know what Star Wars was. There had been a lot of shouting at the TV and a broken DVD player that day, but it was the best day I had had in a long time...

"Honestly Sherlock, I want to go home" I sighed still staring out the window.

"I know John, but we have to do this" Sherlock said and placed his hand on mine "once this is sorted, I'm sure we can just relax for a while, maybe you could bring Sarah over and… I could get to know her… better…"

I snorted at that. I knew very well that Sherlock didn't want to get to know Sarah better; he hated the fact that she saw the first few words of the cipher in 'The Blind Banker' but sometimes it also seemed deeper then that…

"Monsieur?" Asked the driver.

"À l'hôtel s'il vous plaît chauffeur, l'Hôtel du Louvre. "(To the hotel please driver, the Hotel du Louvre) replied Sherlock as I leaned my head on the cold window and just rested my eyes…

After what only seemed like a few seconds, I was jolted awake by the driver shaking me and saying something in French which I failed to understand, though at a guess it was something like "get the hell out of my car"… though in a more polite manner. I got out of the sleek black Mercedes and picked up my bags and Sherlock's, the driver had kindly gotten out of the boot and left on the steps of the hotel foyer. Sherlock was not anywhere to be seen. I struggled to pick up all the bags and to my annoyance, no bell boy came to assist me, though I cant complain completely about the hotel staff, a man dressed in a standard uniform held open the door as I mumbled under my breath none to complimenting words about Sherlock and where I was going to shove his luggage once we'd met up again.

"Ah! Doctor Watson" said a French woman wearing high waisted tailored trousers and a white blouse. She walked towards me and held out her hand. As I tried to get my hand free to shake hers I loudly dropped the entire luggage onto the marble floor. I bent down quickly trying to reclaim that of which I dropped, giving my sincere apologies, but the woman merely whistled and a bell boy dressed in red came rushing over.

"My apologies Doctor Watson to the lack of attentiveness of my staff and my stupidity, I will 'ave these delivered to your 'oom with anything of your choosing from the 'oom service, free of charge." Said the woman. "Oh, I apologise once again Doctor Watson, I am Mademoiselle Poppy, the Manager of d'hôtel du Louvre." She said in a very French accent, but almost perfect English. Due to her French heritage, she dropped all the 'H's' from her words, like the French tended to do.

"I will personally show you to your 'oom. Mr 'olmes specifically told us to make you as comfortable as possible" she said smiling as she pressed the button to call the lift  
"Oh. Ok. Where is Sherlock by the way?" I asked feeling very self conscious of myself.  
"Mr 'olmes was called away on business. The police left a message at reception which 'ee 'ad to pick up immediately upon arrival. 'ee gives 'is sincerest apologies that 'ee could not be with you"  
'I 'ighly doubt that' my inner voice mocked. How stupid must I have looked sleeping like a child in the car whilst Sherlock is running around helping the police! I wished the floor of the elevator would just dissappear and I would vanish, never to see this place or Mademoiselle Poppy again.

"Ah, 'ere we are. La suite penthouse. I 'ope your stay is enjoyable Doctor Watson, anything you need, just call reception and ask for moi" said Mademoiselle Poppy as I stepped out of the elevator and into our 'room'. The elevator doors closed and I was left standing there with my mouth opened.

Sainte Merde!

(Holy Sh-!)

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Hehe, hope you liked it - Comment and review and let me know how to make it better :)

DISCLAIMER: i do not own Sherlock (my love) or Watson (the sexy beast)... damn :(

KryptKeeper x~x~x


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